


My Apologies to Joss Whedon

by doesntafraid (Norickayer)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampires, Identity Porn, M/M, alternate universe- fusion, but with vampires, don't be fooled- this isn't about Brittany, in which everyone in Lima hunts demons, poor communication kills, roughly Glee's third season, this is not a happy story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:09:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2678507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Norickayer/pseuds/doesntafraid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lima was built on a Hellmouth, and Brittany the Vampire Slayer knows better than to mess with Vengeance demons. The Warblers do not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in January of 2012

This doesn’t look like the perfect place for a clandestine duet. This looks more like the crack house she’d sent Sunshine Corazon to, actually. Rachel is nervous, but her show face has always been excellent. Besides, Sebastian is gay and the Warblers wouldn’t do anything too terrible to her when Kurt and Blaine are with New Directions. In fact, Rachel thinks, we’re practically in-laws!

Sebastian is leading her into a house. It’s the most complete of the unfinished homes in this subdivision. She recognizes this neighborhood, once on the cusp of the growing suburbs of Lima, but now abandoned in the recession. This could be normal, Rachel thinks, maybe this abandoned house is a hang-out for Dalton boys. Maybe they throw house parties here. Sebastian is her ride, and she really does want to sing with him, so she goes along as he opens a door for her.

“After you,” he says with a smile. He really looks nothing like a meercat. What was Kurt thinking? She thanks him and steps inside. It’s a bare room: no furniture, no wallpaper. There are beer cans and what appear to be old Playboy issues littering the floor. The light comes from a bare lightbulb in the ceiling, and there are no windows. Rachel frowns.

“Sebastian, the acoustics of this room-” Sebastian ignores her, and shoves something into her hands.

“You’ll need this,” he says, his friendly smile not budging from his face, “Goodbye, Rachel.” before she can ask what he means, he’s shutting the door. She tries the knob, but it’s locked. Not one to give up, Rachel jiggles it several more times, then pounds on the wood of the door. Sebastian’s goodbye sounded eerily like the one she received from Jesse St. James.

“Let me out! This isn’t funny!” There is no answer.

She knocks at the door again, and this time, someone knocks in response. Rachel is taken aback. “Sebastian?” The knocks sound again, but this time it’s clear that they are not coming from Sebastian’s side of the door. Rachel turns around slowly.

There is a closet in the corner of the room, and its door is closed. The space between the bottom of the door and the floor does not admit any light, but Rachel has the terrible feeling that if it did, she’d see the shadow of a figure, pacing. Something is trying to get out.

Sebastian’s parting gift feels heavy in her hands. She looks down. It has a handle and a trigger like a pistol, but the shaft isn’t smooth. Instead, it’s a mess of thin metal pieces… Rachel touches one of them. Two metal arms snap out of the shaft so that they sit perpendicular to their at-rest position. Oh. Sebastian’s given her a crossbow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wood of the door begins to splinter. Rachel looks down at her weapon and wonders if it is even loaded.

The pounding at the door stops, and for a few precious minutes, Rachel believes that it will not start up again. She is wrong. The pounding becomes harsh thuds, spaced further apart. In that dark closet, a body is being thrown against the door.

 

There is a cellphone in her purse, Rachel remembers, but her feet will not move from their spot. Her eyes are glued to the door to the closet, which is creaking under the weight of a body. Who could she call, anyway? Her friends are twenty, thirty minutes away by car, and Rachel doesn’t know if she has that long to wait.

The wood of the door begins to splinter. Rachel looks down at her weapon and wonders if it is even loaded. She hopes it’s more user-friendly than the computers in McKinley’s PC lab.

With a sharp crash, the door fails. A figure bursts into the room with Rachel. Her finger tightens on the trigger, but does not engage it. He’s screaming.

“Sebastian!” the man bellows, “you two faced weasel!” For a moment Rachel is reassured, but her moment of hope is gone when she sees his face. In her human anatomy book, the diagram of the bare musculature of the human face looked intricate, but not grotesque. On this figure it looks sinister.

“What are you?” Rachel whispers. Her grip on the crossbow has slackened, so she brings it up to point at the figure’s chest.

“You’re in on this, too?” It demands, its voice like gravel.

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot,” Rachel warns with more bravado than she feels.

The man- the figure straightens his posture, and all Rachel can think about is those nature documentaries her father Leroy loves. He’s making himself look bigger, more intimidating. Knowing that it’s an illusion, that the creepy figure, hunched over, is just as dangerous as the creepy figure, standing up straight, doesn’t stop her pulse from racing.

 

“You’re holding that wrong.” Rachel bristles and corrects her stance, trying to emulate a cop on Law and Order. If Rachel Berry is anything, she is a perfectionist.

“What’s wrong with your face?” she asks. Maybe he’s just a regular person with an unfortunate deformity.

“I’m a demon, Rachel,” it answers with a smirk. It’s making fun of her.

“A demon from hell?” she asks, “A lackey of the devil?”

“A demon of Justice. And no, I’m mostly freelance.”

“Killing the soloist of your rival glee club is hardly just,” Rachel says frantically. She doesn’t know if her weapon is loaded, she doesn’t know why Sebastian brought her here, and there is an actual demon standing in front of her.

 

“You think this is about show choir?”

“What is it about? What am I doing here?”

“Your guess is apparently not as good as mine.”

“Stop mocking me!” Rachel hisses. She gets enough of that at school.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, it’s a defense mechanism. Calm down and put the bow down.” The demon puts its hands up in a gesture suggesting ‘I’m unarmed.’

“If I put it down, you’re going to- to- eat me, or something,” Rachel accuses.

“I don’t eat people,” it looked offended at the suggestion. Rachel wonders idly if there are vegan demons.

“I’m locked in a room with a demon and a crossbow. Excuse me for assuming we’re meant to be fighting to the death.”

“How wonderfully dramatic.”

“What does it mean, that you’re a demon of Justice?”

“I’m a demon. Supernatural creature with all of the nifty powers that comes with. And the face. I try to use those powers to make things fair,” Rachel was having trouble judging the facial expressions of a demon with no eyebrows, so she wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“Would killing me be just? Do I deserve to die?” Rachel could hardly keep the barrel pointed at the demon, her hands were shaking so hard. What was the mythical creature that had to tell the truth? It probably wasn’t demons. Was it fairies?

“You don’t.” it answered, “Very few people do. Put down the bow, Rachel, and I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“Why should I believe you? You’ll probably just kill me anyway.”

“Look, I don’t want to kill you. All I want to do is get out of this place and forget any of this ever happened.”

“You’re trapped here?”

“Brought here against my will and locked in that room, yes.”

“Why would Sebastian want me dead?”

 

“No idea. I assume you haven’t killed any of his family members recently. Maybe he wants to steal your boyfriend.”

“Kurt! I have to call Kurt; Sebastian hates him, he’ll be next-” Rachel eyes her demonic companion warily, “unless I’m not the first person thrown down here.”

“I didn’t eat your friend.” the demon rolled his eyes. “Now take a deep breath, put down the bow, and we’ll get out of here together.” Hesitantly, Rachel does.


	3. Chapter 3

“Blaine Anderson speaking.”

“Blaine! Are you in Lima?”

“Sebastian?”

“I need backup! I tracked down a Vengeance demon and managed to trap it, but now there’s a civilian in the mix. It’s against Warbler regulations to go in alone- I need you.”

“And you’re on my side of Westerville?”

“You’re coming?”  
“Just give me the directions.”

Sebastian began explaining the situation as soon as Blaine parked his car in the disused subdivision. Blaine let the words wash over him as he surveyed the area. Places where a demon could hide, dark shadows to hide bodies. Sebastian was gesturing to one house in particular, but the distinction wasn’t needed a moment later when a chair was thrown out of a first-story window, shortly followed by a body.

It was either the demon or a Slayer, Blaine thought as he watched the figure land on the grass in a roll.

It stood up, and the two Warblers ran forward, ready for a fight.

“I just hope we’re not too late,” Sebastian was saying.

The figure turned to face them, and Blaine caught a glimpse of its face- skinless, a mass of naked muscles and blood vessels. It was one of  _them_ \- a Vengeance demon.

“We’re too late,” Blaine guessed.

The thing grit its teeth, bone white showing clearly against the pink muscle. “You!” it snarled- at Sebastian, Blaine noticed. It didn’t even have the decency to remember the face of a boy it destroyed? Blaine never actually saw the demon who ruined his public school career, but how many Vengeance demons could fit in Ohio?

The thing didn’t lunge, though. It stood shock still, glaring at Blaine’s partner. Blaine followed his gaze right to the magnum in Sebastian’s hands. Oh.

“You miserable excuse for a human being,” the thing began to speak.

“You’re one to talk, murderer,” Sebastian responded. Technically you weren’t supposed to verbally engage a demon; Blaine recalled that this was rule #9 in the Warbler’s handbook.

“I don’t kill in cold blood!” The demon shrieked. “I don’t use other people as murder weapons!”

“She’s dead?” Blaine found himself asking. The demon’s head whipped to face him, as if it had just noticed his presence. “You killed the civilian,” Blaine elaborated.

“Of course not,” the demon’s gravelly voice answered him, then it turned on Sebastian again, “I’m not a pawn in your little game.”

“Blaine!” Despite his training, Blaine took his eyes off the demon at the sound of his name- was that-?

“Rachel?” Blaine called to the human girl who was attempting to climb out of the window the demon had jumped through. “You’re the civilian?”

“Sebastian tried to kill me!” Rachel babbled hysterically, “and you’ve got to check on Kurt, you know he hates him, he might be next!”

Rachel was running toward him now, and Blaine caught his traumatized ex-girlfriend in a hug.

“Sebastian?” Blaine asked.

“It’s for the greater good.” his partner replied, eyes still locked on the demon.  
  


Blaine was shocked into silence. He wasn’t denying it? “You- greater good? What good is served by using Rachel Berry to bait a demon? What is wrong with you?”

Sebastian shook his head, “It was supposed to make you see. But the demon is too clever. It figured out my plan, and it’s playing angel again. This thing kills people, Blaine.”

“So… why didn’t you just kill it?”

“It has you in its control already. I couldn’t be sure it wouldn’t take you with it.”

“Seriously?” came an unfamiliar voice- the demon, Blaine remembered. “Seriously? You tried to have Rachel killed for the “greater good” of stealing my boyfriend? That’s- that’s insane.”

Boyfriend. “Kurt,” Blaine said, and the demon stared at him, shocked. Blaine wasn’t paying attention to it anymore, though (Rule #43: always keep an eye on the enemy, even over a civilian: you can’t save anyone if you’re dead.); he was rifling through his pockets, looking for his phone. Sebastian tried to kill Rachel. Sebastian hated his boyfriend. Blaine hit speed dial #2, and pressed the phone to his ear.

“He had better be alive,” Blaine hissed at Sebastian as the phone rang, an instrumental version of Katy Perry’s Teenage Dream spilling from the phone’s speaker.

The ringtone echoed from another phone. Beside him, Sebastian smirked. Kurt’s custom ringtone was coming from- from the demon, Blaine realized. The demon who looked surprised, and slipped a hand into his pocket- into the pocket of Kurt’s Zara blazer, Blaine thought, the one Kurt had been wearing when they exchanged Christmas presents. The demon pulled out Kurt’s phone and turned it off.

“I’m sorry,” it said in its gravelly voice.

“You said-” Rachel began, but Blaine wasn’t paying attention. He was running, running at the demon and as his fist connected to its face he screamed,

“What did you do to him?”

This was against so many Warbler’s regulations: #8: don’t go hand-to-hand with a demon (subsection 1: unless it’s the last resort), #5: don’t act without consulting your parter (same qualifier), #13: don’t get emotional, etc.

Blaine was on top of it, fists hitting flesh until he ran out of drive. When Blaine looked down, it was Kurt’s face looking back up at him.

“Blaine-” it said in Kurt’s voice (and what had it done, that it could use his voice?)

“Don’t.” Blaine interrupted. (Rule # 9) “You have no right- no right to use that face.”

Kurt’s face gazed up at him sadly, and Blaine couldn’t take it anymore, “Please, please just tell me he’s still alive.” Blaine shook the thing’s borrowed shoulders when it didn’t answer. “tell me!”

“He’s still alive,” it said quietly in that soft, familiar voice.

“Take me to him,” Blaine demanded. The thing didn’t respond, its eyes wandering over to Sebastian.

Protocol required that Blaine call in help: when a Warbler was compromised, a replacement needed to be called in before any action was taken. But Blaine had three problems to deal with now: a Warbler in need of disciplinary action, a civilian who needed to be debriefed, and a demon who had stolen his boyfriend’s clothes, his cellphone, and his face.

Kurt was somewhere out there with no way to call for help.

Blaine made his choice.

“Sebastian, give me the gun.” Blaine may not be at Dalton any longer, but he was still a Warbler with seniority, and Sebastian handed him the weapon without comment. Blaine pointed it at the demon’s head.

“Blaine-” it gasped.

“Shut up,” Blaine growled. “You’ll speak when you’re spoken to.” He nodded at Sebastian. “Go back to headquarters. I’ll deal with you later. Rachel?” The poor girl was hyperventilating, and staring at the demon in Kurt’s shape. “Rachel, you need to get home. Can you call someone to come get you?” Blaine felt bad leaving her here, but he couldn’t look after her  _and_  the demon. This is why the Warblers require that you have a partner with you, Blaine remembered.

The girl nodded.

“Awesome,” Blaine drawled, “Now, you: demon. Take me to Kurt.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Turn here,” Kurt’s hand gestured. Blaine glanced over from the driver’s seat, but immediately wished he hadn’t. The thing had Kurt’s mannerisms down pat. How long had it been watching them? Blaine’s stomach sank. How long ago had Kurt disappeared? Hours? Days? Weeks? The thing seemed too comfortable in Blaine’s silver mustang for it to have been a very recent switch. Kurt was probably dead by now, that was what Wes would say. But Wes wasn’t here, and even a tiny chance at finding Kurt still alive was worth anything.

“Stop that. You don’t deserve that face.”

“Well you’re just going to have to deal with it, because we’re going to be talking to humans and my demon face isn’t exactly low-key.”

“Can’t you use someone else’s face?” Blaine countered.

“No. It’s not that easy; this is the only human face in my repertoire.”

A shiver crawled down Blaine’s spine.

“How long since you took him?”

The thing was silent for a moment, considering its answer. Planning a lie? Blaine had no way of knowing.

“Kurt was taken only a few hours ago,” it said carefully.

“Right.” It had to be telling the truth. Blaine couldn’t let even a small change of rescuing Kurt slip away. Blaine had the thing’s amulet, the source of its power. It would tell him the truth, if it knew what was good for it.

“He’s fine,” the thing assured him, “I didn’t hurt Rachel. You can trust me that your boyfriend is alive.”

“Demons lie. Don’t pretend to be an innocent party in this. I know what you are.”

“What am I?” it said in a huff.

“You’re a human’s capacity for evil. You’re disproportionate retribution. You’re jealousy and envy and self-centeredness.” It didn’t immediately respond, which was fine with Blaine. He wasn’t looking for conversation.

“Who hurt you?” It asked softly, sounding for all the world like Blaine’s concerned boyfriend.

“I’ve seen your kind before. Heck, it might have even been you. Tell me, did you ever make an entire school turn against a gay freshman?” Blaine’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles began to turn white, “Did you ever make his friends leave him? Make the teacher’s blind to the abuse? Make his- his parents ignore him?” The demon doesn’t answer.

“You didn’t deserve that,” it tells him, two turns later. “No one deserves that.”

“Says the Vengeance demon.”

“Stop that!” it demands, demands in the stolen voice. “Stop judging me on what I am instead of on who I am!” It sounds as self-righteous as Kurt has ever sounded. If Blaine closes his eyes, he can almost imagine it’s his best friend sitting next to him. The bruising on its face and the situation they found themselves in do not allow for that escape.

“Don’t play that card. I’m not stupid. After you- after one of you ruined my life I read up on you. I know what you do, I know how you do it, and I know you chose this life. You were a human, once. But you were so hateful and vengeful that you gave up your life for the power to hurt people. So don’t expect me to feel sorry for you.”

“What about the power to protect?”

“You’re a Vengeance demon.  
  


“Some people call us Justice demons.”

“They’re wrong,” Blaine knows he should have a better comeback than that, but he’s never been able to think very clearly when he’s angry. “It wasn’t justice that landed me in the hospital with three broken ribs.”

“Blaine, I’m so-”

“You aren’t him. You may look like him and sound like him, but I know Kurt. I love him. Kurt isn’t vengeful. Kurt wouldn’t lash out and hurt people. Kurt is so much better than you will ever be!” Images are superimposed over Blaine’s plain of vision. Kurt hadn’t outed his attacker, his molester. Kurt trusted Blaine to deal with Sebastian’s advances. Kurt had kept Sam’s secret even at the expense of his own reputation. Kurt was- Kurt was forgiveness and courtesy personified. If Kurt was anything like this demon, Blaine would have been died the day he drunkenly kissed Rachel Berry, or the day he embarrassed Kurt about being sexy, or the night he’d tried to get Kurt to have sex in the parking lot of Scandals.

“If that’s the boy you’re looking for, you’re going to be disappointed,” the thing in Kurt’s form spat.

“You didn’t-” images of a traumatized Kurt filled Blaine’s mind. What could have been done to Kurt to rid him of his idealism?

“I’m not saying- for the last time, I didn’t do anything to him. I’m just saying…” The thing looked uncomfortable, “he isn’t who you think he is.”

Blaine clenched his teeth and stared at the road. He didn’t believe Sebastian when he railed on Kurt, so why should be believe a demon?

“Stop, we’re here,” the demon directed.

“The high school? You hid him in the high school?”

The thing shook its head. “No. But there’s someone here who can tell you where he is.”

The demon lead him right to the auditorium.

“Mr. Schue?” The Glee instructor turned around and smiled at the demon. “Kurt! Are you alright, you didn’t show up to class today.”

The demon brushed off his concern, “There were- personal issues, but I’m getting them cleared up. Can I just borrow Brittany for a moment?”

“Well we’re going over the choreography right now-” Schuester began.

“It’ll just take a moment.” The demon repeated.

Blaine didn’t like where this was going. Allowing a demon to call the shots was a terrible idea, but allowing it in the same room as the Slayer while it was disguised as one of her friends?

“Another time-” Blaine began to say.

“Boo!” Brittany called, and before Blaine could stop her, she launched herself into his arms.

“I missed you. I thought the monster in the pool had eaten you,” she told the demon.

“He isn’t-” Blaine began, pained.

“Lets talk somewhere quieter,” the demon suggested.

It’s Blaine who suggests the choir room, empty but for a few bags left behind by the glee kids still practicing in the auditorium. He wants to be on familiar ground. The demon can’t call all the shots.

“Kurt is gone,” Blaine blurts out as soon as they cross the threshold. He has to tell Brittany whats going on before the demon manages to trick her. “He-”

The demon walks into the room behind Brittany. The demon. Not the demon-in-Kurt’s-body.

“He’s-” Blaine gestures at its face, it’s bloodless, skinless face. The Slayer’s gaze follows his motion, but she does not react.

“Brittany,” the demon says in its true voice, “Tell Blaine where Kurt is.”

The slayer looks disappointed. In the demon. The Slayer knows the demon.

“You’re supposed to come out yourself. That’s what you told Santana. Don’t out other people, and be true to yourself. Were you lying?”

“No, boo. I did- I told him. He just- he needs to hear it from you.”

“Kurt’s a demon,” Brittany confides to Blaine, “But he’s really self-conscious about it, so don’t make fun of his voice.”

“What?” He’s tricked the Slayer, obviously, because if it’s true, then… then Kurt’s worse than dead. The Kurt Blaine loves has never really existed.

“Kurt is a demon. He didn’t used to be, and he said no the first time (Coach says hardly anyone says no to her). But it’s okay,” Brittany adds, “Because I’m dating a demon, too. We can make a club! It’ll be awesome.”

Blaine is speechless. He turns to face the demon- his boyfriend? It’s Kurt,  ~~again finally~~. “How long?” Blaine forces his lips to shape the words. He needs to know. What happened to turn his forgiving, gentle, clever Kurt into this monster? Was it kissing Rachel that pushed Kurt over the edge? That almost makes sense, Blaine thinks, because this revelation, this betrayal hurts too much to be anything but vengeance.

“More than a year, now,” Kurt-the-demon says, which doesn’t make sense because that means Kurt was already a demon when they sang Baby its Cold Outside. Is he lying? Why- “I wanted- Coach Sylvester found me in the locker room after Karofsky kissed me. And she offered me power. She offered me a way to protect myself. So I took it.”

“But you transferred to get away from him,” Blaine remembers, his mind rewriting everything he thought he knew about last year.

“I did,” Kurt nods, “It turns out… even if you have the power to fight back, you still have to remember to use it. I was too scared. He’d push me in the hallway, he’d steal my things, and even though I could have- I could have snapped his neck, or something. I was still terrified.” Kurt’s face has gone pale, and Blaine believes him as much as he ever has.

“I’ve done terrible things, Blaine. You’re right about that part. You have to know: I am Kurt. I do love you. Everything I’ve ever told you about that is true. I’m just- I’m also a demon.”

“You kill people.”

“Yes. No. Not on purpose. Once. I was just. Last year, after the kiss and before my transfer. I answered my first call of vengeance. It was stupid; some sophomore girl felt betrayed because her best friend stole the boy she liked. And it, everything just went wrong. In the end, Matt was dead.”

Blaine’s mind reeled. “You’re the reason a boy is dead.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t mean to kill him.”

“I didn’t mean to kill anyone. I just- I’ve been learning how to control the wishes. Coach and Santana have shown me- I just make people have a bad day, now. A bad week, at most.”

“San says you’re a pussy,” Brittany offers, inanely, “But she’s always been a dog person.”

“Blaine-”

“Stop, just stop.”

“I’m just trying to be honest-”

“If you’ve ever cared about me, stop talking. I can’t- I can’t think. I just need to think.”

“So you’ve been a demon from the beginning, and you didn’t tell me?”

“Yeah. And how do you know so much about demons? And what the hell was up with Sebastian?”

“The Warblers are demon hunters.”

“I- what? Why didn’t I know? I was a Warbler for almost seven months.”

“You were… you were raw, vulnerable. We were going to induct you over the summer.”

“Why… why are there a group of adolescent demon hunters in Westerville?”

“There’s a Hellmouth under Lima. What, you expect public school kids to deal with it?”

-

 

Burt listens to their story (or rather, to Rachel’s story) quietly, with grim eyes. Finn sometimes thinks that Burt can look into your soul and tell if you’re lying, he’s that badass.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do: do either of you know how to shoot?” Burt is hauling old guns out of a trunk in the family room, the one that’s closed with a padlock. Finn always assumed it was just for show, or else it housed stuff owned by Kurt’s mom. Nope; guns.

“I’m a pacifist,” Rachel said quickly.

“I could…figure it out?” Finn wondered. The weapons looked familiar. He could probably name a few, and he’d been practically raised on first-person shooters.

“Hah, no. Maybe later I’ll teach you. For now, stay put,” Burt ordered, strapping a crossbow to his side and shoving a handgun in his belt.

“What? No! We’re a family now, Burt. Kurt- he’s my brother!”

“Yeah, and if you go off half-cocked Kurt might not have a brother to come back to. Stay put. I’ll handle this. Do either of you have this Sebastian kid’s number?” They shook their heads. “Okay, I’ll go after Blaine first, then.”

-

“Blaine Anderson, who may I say is calling?” the words ran together like a small child’s recitation of the pledge of allegiance.

“Do you know where Kurt is?” Burt asked bluntly. This could go one of several ways…

“He’s with me. We’re at the school. There’s um, there’s extra choreography practice going on,” Blaine explained.

“Kid, you’ve been remarkably honest with me so far, so don’t start lying now. Finn’s terrible at dancing. If there was practice now, he’d be there.” Out of the corner of his eye, Burt saw that Finn was making some sort of choking motion…

Someone was speaking on the other end of the phone, then Blaine responded, “Well, Finn was here actually, but he ran off. Had to pick up Rachel from-”

“A demon took my son, Blaine. I want to know if you’ve found him.”

“You- Rachel told you.”

“Where is Kurt?”

“Dad, calm down, you know you have a heart condition!” That was his son’s voice. Burt’s breathing slowed.

“You’re okay? You’re both okay?”

“Dad, yes, we’re fine.”

“Is the demon dead? What did it look like?”

“Can we… can we just explain in person?” Kurt asked hesitantly.

“Yeah. Come home. Bring your boy.”

“Right Dad, see you soon.”

As soon as Burt ended the call, Finn burst out, “He’s alive?”

“Seems like it, yeah,” Burt responded, distracted.

“Seems like it?” Rachel repeated in a strained voice.

“You said it could sound like Kurt if it wanted to. Until they get here, there’s no way of knowing if Blaine really found Kurt, or if the demon is coercing Blaine into lying for it.”

“Oh,” said Finn, “shit.”

-

 

A key turned in the lock and two figures entered the house.

“Dad?” Kurt’s voice called.

“Mr. Hummel?” called Blaine’s.

“In the family room,” Burt called from his position.

Blaine and maybe-Kurt stood at one end of the room. Burt stood at the other end, in the doorway leading to the kitchen. Finn and Rachel stood behind him. If things went sour, they could escape out the back door. Rachel, at least, needed to be close to ID the demon.

“Dad, what’s the gun for?” Kurt’s voice asked quietly. Blaine put his hands up. Smart boy.

“Rachel, that him?” Burt asked, gun raised and pointing toward a figure that might be his child.

“Yes” the small girl squeaked, “that’s the jacket he stole from Kurt, and his face- when it turned into Kurt, Blaine freaked out and punched him several times. That isn’t Kurt; that’s the demon.”

“Right,” Burt grunted, but didn’t shoot. He had to be sure. “Ok kid. Singing’s important to you, right?” Something important to Kurt, something he wouldn’t have told anyone else… “What’s the highest note you can sing?” Burt was bluffing; he didn’t remember what it was called, the note in the girl song Kurt pretended to flub for him, but maybe he could recognize the name when he heard it.

“It’s me. I can- Sophomore year I could hit a high F. My range has lowered a little but since then, I don’t know if I could hit it now. I threw the competition with Rachel that year- because you got a phone call calling me a fag.” Kurt was shaking a bit, and it was Kurt, it had to be. Burt lowered the gun.

“But his face!” Rachel quibbled.

“How much do you know about what happened?” Kurt’s boyfriend asked him.

“Not much. What Rachel remembered. Look, now that I know Kurt’s safe, we gotta make sure that demon can’t come back. What did it look like? What were its powers? They don’t all go down like humans do.”

“Oh. Um. I know. The Warblers- we’re demon hunters, actually,” Blaine eyed him with respect.

“That young? My generation at least waited until college,” Burt admitted. It wasn’t a huge surprise. Someone had to have been defending Lima (and the surrounding area) since he retired. “You made sure the demon was dead?”

“Actually,” now the kid looked nervous. Oh geeze, what’d they do, try to reason with it?

“Dad,” Kurt began, his voice solemn as Burt had ever heard. “Dad, I’m the demon.”


End file.
